In a Mirror, Darkly
by MaybeWolf
Summary: From the mind of ZenNoMai, and coming straight through my pen. Jade's life is falling apart anyway, so how could a decrepit fortune teller possibly make things worse? Tuesday's Rade Week Entry, and the first chapter in an extended story.
1. Carnival

**I'm a tool.**

**No seriously, I'm a tool. This story might be posted on my profile, but it's not really mine. Nope, this is a fic ripped directly from the Rade soaked mind of ZenNoMai which is flowing right through my pen. It's his story, and a lot of his ideas, they're just my words and characterizations. This is just the first chapter, guys. The Rade will come eventually. Things needed to be put into motion.**

**Anyways, go and enjoy our collective word vomit, and my Tuesday Rade Week effort. :)**

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The Carnival is nothing but bright lights, loud colors and even louder people.

Amid the shifting light and heaving throngs of people, I feel like I'm drowning. I really wish Beck hadn't sunk a hook into me with his puppy dog eyes and dragged me from my room. Worse still, Vega was the one pulling his strings. Nobody has said it, but she's definitely the one behind dragging me into this hell. It's been a long day, a really long day. Now the nights looking even longer. Beck curls his arm around my waist, and I feel something twist in my gut. It's not butterflies, or even anything that flies. It's more like a slug, or a tumor. He kisses my temple and I only feel worse. What's the fucking point of this?

"God, how much longer do we have to stay here for?" It's the first time I've spoken since Beck uprooted me, and his eyebrows twitch in surprise. Shocker, he hadn't even considered that coming here is bordering on physically painful for me. Hateful words burn at my tongue, and I'm preparing to launch them in his direction when a cloud of rust colored tendrils bursts between us.

"C'mon Jade, it's fun! Look at all of the pretty clowns." Cat chirps, bouncing up and down excitedly. Pinching the bridge of my nose, drag in a heavy breath and try to tame the urge I'm having to tear Cat's arm off and beat her senseless with it.

"Was I talking to you?" Just great. In spite of my best intents to calm down, my reply erupts in a hail of razorblades. Cat flinches and skitters away with a whimper, seeking Andre's refuge. Expelling the air from my lungs, I screw my eyes shut and tilt my head back. I'll talk to Cat in a few days when things at home have blown over. It'll be fine. It always is.

"Was that really necessary?" Beck asks, flexing his hand. Feeling fingers curl against me is probably the closest I'll come to prying an emotion out of Beck when there's more than two heartbeats in the room.

"Probably not. But was it really necessary to drag me here?" I hiss, twisting in his direction as my eyebrows break over the bridge of my nose. All he does is chuckle lightly, dismissively. My mouth contorts, and I feel my knuckles begin to throb as my hand gnarls into a fist.

"It's a Carnival, Jade! How can you hate a Carnival?" Beck drawls, rolling his shoulder. I know he loves me, he says it constantly, but sometimes I wonder if Beck really knows me. Everything I do or hate seem to catch him off guard.

"It's easy, Beckett. Loud morons, little morons, stupid clowns. Ducks Beck, ducks!" I rant, squinting in the direction of a duck based numbers game. Beck sweeps an unruly tress of hair away from his olive skin and rolls his shoulders again, unaffected as usual.

"They're not even real." Vega chimes in, falling into step with us. She's trying to look stern, but as usual she's failing miserably. I hate her, I really do. I doubt she'd ever even lived through a day that had been anything less than sunshine, rainbows and happy little singing gnomes before meeting me. I'm the rain, I always will be.

"Maybe not, Vega. But my fist sure is." I counter, leaning in her direction and curling my fist even tighter. I can feel my nails beginning to break the skin, too. It's okay though, my wounds will heal before anybody notices anyway.

"What's your problem Jade? You've been ganky all day, even by your standards." Tori complains, stepping in front of me and screwing her arms against her chest. There she goes, trying to look tough again.

"Look Vega, I don't have to tell you a damn thing." I snarl, stepping away from Beck and jabbing Tori to emphasize my point. Her body rocks as my nail jabs at her pretty golden fucking skin. Tight lips quiver, and droop into a frown as Tori's façade comes tumbling down. Just another pathetic girl.

"Babe, stop freaking out." Beck's tone comes dangerously close to containing some kind of emotion as her wraps his arms around me. I feel my shoulders tense up with realization. It's not me that he's trying to soothe. It's Tori. I'm just a proxy for him to achieve his means, a fucking puppet. I claw away from his grip, and whirl away from Vega. Glaring at Beck, my hands bunch up into fists again, knuckles twinging with pain.

"I'm n-" The world's second biggest mistake is interrupted by the reigning hold of that particular title. A muscle flinches in my jaw as a head of tangle black curls bobs towards us. Great, just great. On top of everything, I have to deal with Shapiro and his fucking puppet now.

"Hey, hey! Look what I got, everybody! I wa-" He squawks, cradling Rex against his hip and waving his free hand through the air excitedly. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I can't take any more of his inanity and cut through his sentence.

"Nobody cares." I boom, lips curling into a sneer. He stares at me for a moment for shaking his head and grinning moronically. Warmth wraps around me, and I realize Beck's already forgotten about our argument before. It's infinitely irritating and more than a little depressing.

"No seriously, I just have to get it out of my bag." Robbie chirps, still looking as excited as ever.

"Whatever…" I mumble, the will to fight draining out of me as I feel a vibration in my front pocket. Abandoning any attempt at conversation with Shapiro, I reach into my pocket and fish out my phone. It's not that I want to read the contents of the message, it's that I have to.

"See look, it's-" I'm vaguely aware of Shapiro rattling on about something, and then I'm much more aware that I'm sailing into the ground. My skull bounces off the dirt and then everything goes hazy for a moment. Brunette hair and worried faces taint my vision when I open my eyes again. On one side, Vega is hovering over me; eyebrows are scrunched up in concern. Fucking do gooder.

"Butternuts! Jade I'm so sor-" Still seeing the world through bleary eyes, I turn to Shapiro. He's sprawled out beside me amid tangled limbs and a displaced puppet. As he scrambles upright, I notice that his hand is circled around something small, red and…crushed. Darting to my feet and brushing the dirt, I push towards Shapiro. Even under the flickering neon light of the carousel beside us, I can see exactly what he's holding.

"What…the fuck did you just do?" I shriek, ripping my shoulder away from Beck rapidly approaching hand. Glaring down at the shattered corpse of my phone, I can feel the skin breaking on my palms as my fingernails carve through it. Robbie's lips are flailing, and he's all upturned palms and half formed words. In a word, he's pathetic.

"I-I'm sorry Jade..I think I-I can fix it." He chokes out, amid a constricting throat as my hands shoot out and grab his forearms. I know he's fragile, and I'm probably handling him too roughly. The rational part of me is long gone though, banished to the furthest outskirts of my consciousness. The last line of contact that I had has now been severed thanks to a nerd and whatever he had scrambled up to us blathering about

"Oh, fix it you t-t-think?" My tone is dangerously even as I intentionally stutter to carve my intentions into Shapiro. His eyebrows crinkling and dip down painfully as my voice collides with him.

"Believe it or not, he's actually good for something." Rex interjects, still laying on the ground between us. Glaring doubtfully at Shapiro, I bend down and pick up Rex's limp body. Holding him up and peering into his lifeless eyes, fucking puppet. It's pathetic that this little wooden boy shows more signs of life than Shapiro ever will.

"No, he's not." The words burn on my tongue, hissing and bubbling as they tear through my lips. My eyes fly away from Rex, and I release my grip on him. His corpse sails to the ground, landing below he with a dull thud. Swinging my foot, I stab at Rex with it and send the puppets broken body sailing towards Shapiro. From the second my boot makes contact with him, it's as though the volume of everything around us dribbles away.

"Jade, c'mon..." Beck mumbles, dark eyes skittering between Shapiro and I. The blood boils in my veins all over at the hint of compassion in his voice. Where the fuck had that tone been when I had told him I just wanted to stay home tonight? I'm the one out of control, but Beck's the one that severed my leash by ripping me from my room.

"No. You know what, Shapiro? You are actually the most pathetic waste of skin that I've ever encountered. At least Vega over there has a thimble-full of talent. You…what are you good for? Speaking with your lips shut?" I hiss, looking down at Robbie as he sinks to his knees and cradles Rex in his arms. He glances up at me, eyes beginning to glass over. His lips quiver, and I wonder if he's actually going to fire back with something for once.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rex's voice is battered and bruised, barely creeping through Robbie's lips. His eyes fall to his friend and shadows engulf his face.

"Yeah that's right, hide behind your puppet Shapiro. God knows it would kill you to actually grow a set and say something to me yourself." I spit, throwing my hand out. I don't know what it is about Shapiro's specific brand of weakness, but something in his reply makes me want to breath fire and leave him laying a charred corpse beside his ridiculous puppet.

"J-just…" I broken word seeps between us, but of course Shapiro doesn't follow it with anything meaningful. I lean forward, begging him to strike me down by saying something.

"Just what Shapiro? Go and carve out a girlfriend for Rex since you might as well have single for life tattooed across your forehead?" I demand, gesturing in the direction of a twisted tree that's just barely illuminated by the glow of the carnival.

"Just…fuck off." When Robbie speaks, his tone holds no anger, just pain. It's perplexing to say the least, and as he drops Rex and flees into the night, it makes me hate him more. If he'd poured even a little hate into his words, I'd be able to justify everything I've said. As it is, I just feel hollow when I glare down at my crushed phone.

"That wasn't very nice, Jade." Cat states calmly. Her airy voice only causes the bile in my throat to rise even higher. I yank my eyes away from Rex and turn to Cat. Rolling my shoulders, I shove the emotions coursing through me somewhere deep and dark, somewhere that they can be forgotten.

"Yeah, well what can I say? I'm a terrible person." I counter, plastering a sardonic smile over the truth and bending down to Cat's level. Screwing my arms tightly to my chest, I watch as Cat's face crumbles. With a whimper, she ducks into Andre's arms and cowers.

"Trust me, we know." Andre chimes in, adding his voice to the symphony of discontent around me. As he twists around and leads Cat towards a cotton candy vendor, my arms fall back to my sides. Pangs of frustration slice through me, and feel even fucking worse. Of course I had to sink my claws into Cat and Robbie first. They're defenceless, pathetic really. At least Beck's walled up his emotions, and my jibes roll off Andre's back. Hell, even Vega can handle my words most of the time. But Robbie and Cat. They're-

"What'd they do to you? What'd Robbie ever do to you?" Speak of the devil, Vega has marched over to me. Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly over her nose, and for a moment, I'm caught off guard. Usually her anger is something like a feeble drizzle, but right now, she looks more like a typhoon.

"He got born." I retort, dragging barbs over my tongue and flinging them at Vega. She actually veers back from the viciousness of my retort. Her hunched shoulders droop, and she tries to force a smile or something in Beck's direction before she turns away. Probably going nerd hunting or something. Good riddance.

"Jade, you really need to calm down…" Beck states, draping an arm over my shoulder in that far too casual way that he always does. Jerking away from him, I stomp on a discarded Styrofoam cup and turn to face Beck. Jesus, I just chased away every friend we have, and nothing. Of course Beck, don't ask me why I'm lashing out. Just assume it's me being me.

"Oh right, take their side." I mumble, the words hitching in my throat. Shaking my head, I run a finger through my hand and realize I should have expected this. It's always been about the need of the many for Beck. If my problem isn't everybody's problem, then clearly it's not terminal.

"I'm not taking sides, I'm-" Beck begins, looking affronted. I know exactly what he's going to say, before his lips even move.

"Whatever. I don't need this. Come and find me when you're done being lame." Twisting away from him, I toss the words over my shoulder and wander into the night. As I disappear into the crowd, I hear something amounting to a feeble protest from Beck. He doesn't chase though, of course not. Beck Oliver is much too cool to chase after his ridiculous, overly emotional girlfriend.

I drift through the carnival like a shadow, a streak of black that nobody bothers to acknowledge. Whatever, I'm glad. I don't need some moron coming to me and trying to strike up a conversation anyway. Some time later, when the moon is hanging high over me, I stumble across the façade comprised of an old cottage. Skeletons peer though the windows, and blood stains the walls. Shouldering my way through the crowd, I come to a halt at the end of a short line.

The horrors contained inside are…well, disappointing to be honest. My pulse remains steady as cardboard ghouls fly out at me, and plastic bones jangle in the dark. The only thing that comes close to startling me is a shock of red hair that veers around a corner briefly. It turns out to just be a dummy though, of course. I'm still alone, an island unto myself. Trudging down the steps of the cottage, I resume my aimless wandering, waiting for Beck to find me and ask if I want a ride home. I'm stuck here until he leaves. It's not like anybody at home will bother to drive all the way out her to pick me up, and it's not like I have a phone anymore anyway. I'm at the mercy of my rag tag band of friends. Well, I guess they're my friends. I'm not even really sure anymore. They just barely tolerate me with the exception of Cat. I think she's too naive to realize how toxic I am.

"Damned Shapiro." The dorks name drops from my tongue without me even realizing it was I drag my limbs tightly against my body. It's his fault that I've wandered to the outskirts of the carnival, and that I've got no idea where I am. A mist swirls around my feet, and the shadows seem to crawl after me. It's infinitely more unsettling than the feeble ambience of the Haunted Cottage.

"He isn't the only one that's damned." A voice cackles from the distance. In a moment of weakness, I spiral around, eyes widened in fear. Looming before me is an indigo tent that I can't quite remember seeing as I passed it. Under the pale luminance of a hanging lamp is a woman dressed in garb from a bygone century. It doesn't do a thing to conceal her skeletal form.

"Oh, and I suppose by that, you mean I am?" I state brazenly, curling my lips and snorting derisively. The woman leans forward, and the light shifts away from her eyes. She looks more skeletal than ever now. A chill sweeps through the air before curling through my hair.

"Those that ignore history are damned to repeat it." She elaborates, while failing to provide any information at all. Between the fear that's flooding my veins, irritation pushes it's way toward the front of my mind. Who the hell does this woman think she is?

"It's doomed, and what does history have to do with your hocus pocus crap?" I hiss, correcting the old woman's error. If she's going to try an frighten me, she might as well do it properly. My momentary rush of confidence recedes as the woman's lips curl into a grin. It's not the rows of jagged teeth that unnerve me, it's the way the curve of her lips seems to radiate knowledge. She's smirking as though I've just spilled my guts out to her, and there's nothing left to learn.

"Grunchy one, aren't you?" She intones, cold grey eyes glinting through the shadows. Tugging my arms closer to my body, I rattle out a harsh laugh and spiral away from her dismissively.

"I've had enough of this. I'm leaving. Bye bye short, dark and lumpy." I call over my shoulder, burying my concern beneath a blasé exterior. Glaring into the bleak path ahead of me, I wonder if it will eventually trail around to the loud colors that seem so far away.

"Jade West, why do hurt those around you? Even those that are only trying to help?" The old woman's voice takes on a darker tone when she speaks again. I pause haltingly, with one foot hanging in the air as I realize that I hadn't ever uttered my name in her presence.

"Oh, so you're stalking me now?" I shriek, trying to keep the waver out of my voice. The ancient woman's lips only curl further as she senses my nerves beginning to fray. I tear my eyes away from her, and focus on the moon. Maybe if I just focus on the light, I won't be dragged into the darkness.

"When a heart is as cold as yours, I can feel it in my bones." She crows, crooked teeth on full display as ice water fills my veins. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's just the breeze. There's no way this old hag is getting inside my head. She's just senile. Yeah that's it, the demented old bat just fluked my name. I probably remind her of somebody from 40 years ago or something.

"Oh, well that's great. I hope you get frostbite, you old hag." I spit viciously. The woman doesn't falter, though. She merely dips her gaze and peers down at several scattered cards on the small table before her.

"Maybe so, but the cards do not lie." She states plainly, an air of menace in her voice this time. I swallow the lump in my throat, and for an instant, there's a chink in my armor. Gnarling my fists, I seal it with another sneer before more uncertainty can pour through.

"Oh right, so this is the part where I walk over to you…" I scoff, dragging my feet over the weeds beneath my boots and stepping towards the woman's tent brazenly.

"Lay down an obscene amount of money…" I continue, reaching into my pocket and fishing out a few notes. Twisting my lips into a sickly variation of a grin, I lift the money in front of my face and jangle it around before dumping it on the red velvet table.

"…And sit here while you spout off quasi-inspirational one liners." Continuing my narration, I sink into the seat across from the woman and throw my boots on to the corner of the table arrogantly. All the while I'm doing this, there's a gnawing in my gut. Something telling me that attacking this situation is the wrong this to do. The woman's lips lifting as I take a seat only deepens that feeling, too.

"As you wish." As her gangly fingers extend and claw my money towards her, suddenly I really wish I'd just kept walking. There's a glimmer in her eyes, something that I really don't like.

"Hey, it was a joke lady. Give me back my money!" I blurt out, leaning forward and trying to retrieve my money from her clutches. I'm too late though, it's disappeared into the vacuous space of her front pocket.

"Sit down, Jadelynn. You might actually learn something." She notes absently, once again peering down at her cards. Even the wind is silent as the woman rearranges her deck of cards. I can almost hear the bones creak as her long fingers skitter back and forth.

"You must learn to love by seeing the world through the eyes of another." I woman states, leaning over the table between us and regarding the cards carefully. I scrub at my arms, feeling that familiar chill sink into my bones as the cold steel of her eyes collides with mine again.

"Oh, yeah I wish I had the eyes of another. Maybe then everything around me would be completely different. Golly gee, maybe you could even give Vega's awful sister some talent." A muscle in my jaw twitches, and my eyebrows skew over my nose as I spew venom in the old crone's direction. She merely tilts her head, and a jagged smile carves it's way across her face.

"Be careful what you wish for, Jadelynn." The woman retorts, jabbing her withered index finger in my direction. My fingers curl, and begin to sink into the flesh of my arms as my nerves begin to get the better of me again.

"Ooh, I'm so creeped out. Do tell, what will happen if I don't suddenly sprout a new pair of eyes?" I crow, peppering my reply with harsh, biting laughter. My veneer of confidence is cracked when the woman laughs along with me. It's so controlled though, nothing like the clatter of anybody else's mirth. It's a haunting melody that rips the smirk from my lips.

"You will never find true love until the storm within your heart ceases. Jadelynn, you must embrace change or face a lifetime of loneliness." She states, finger still raised between us like a dagger. It hangs over my chest, and I heap gulps of breath into my lungs. I swear the fog around us has growth thicker since I wandering into this woman's grasp.

"Oh wow, and here's me thinking I was in a long-term relationship with my boyfriend that loves me. Gee, guess I'm just kidding myself." I chuckle nervously, eyes darting away from the woman as the predatory glint of her teeth flashes once more. Even peering at the ground, my heart pounds against my chest my chest, and I feel like it's going to burst, like this nightmare is going to drag the life right from me.

"You don't know how right you are, Jadelynn. Very well. You may leave." My ribs feel like they're going to fly apart, and all I can do is nod stupidly. I shove my way out of the chair that's begun to feel like a problem, and haul myself upright. The woman waves at me with an air of serenity that's almost poor terrifying than her ominous words.

"Yeah, great. I'm done with this anyway. Goodbye Nostradumbass." I hiss, flicking my eyes once more over the woman's bony features before hurriedly rushing into the night. I don't turn back into I'm sure the inky veil of these midnight hours has swallowed the woman and her tent.

By the time I stumble into the neon lights of the carousel, my lungs are raw, and my chest is on fire. Dragging my eyes over the bleak scenery behind me, I supress a shudder and wander further into the light. The crowds have thinned out, and only a few lingering bodies dot the carnival. I begin to wonder how long I had been gone for. I could swear it had been a lot less than an hour.

I anchor myself near the entrance of the Carnival, watching the steady stream of people leaving with a growing sense of despair. By the time that stream has slowed to a dribble, I come to the realization that they're gone. They're all gone. I push a hand through my hair, and screw my eyes shut as my eyes begin to burn. The lights in the carnival begin to die one by one, and the sounds that had flooded the air are now dead.

I'm alone. So fucking alone.

Trudging into the night's embrace, I throw my gaze down the lonely stretch of highway that I'm faced with. At the foot of the horizon is a faint light. Setting my jaw, I swallow the shards of glass in my throat and march towards it. I chew on my lip as the light draws every closer, willing the water that's glassing my ears to leave before I'm bathed in it's luminance.

Finally reaching the Gas Station, I force the door open and I saunter over to a gaunt looking man behind the counter. He's all too willing to acquiesce to my demands, and quickly shoves a phone in my direction. Mechanically, I demand the address from him, and quickly rattle off the details to the cab company on the other end of the line. Dropping the phone onto the bench, I mutter a quick thanks and rush back into the night.

Shaking my head, I pull a cigarette from my clutch and take a quick drag. The poison fills my lungs, and all of a sudden, that stupid woman and thoughts of my friends feel a little further away. Draping myself against the crumbling walls of the station, I drain the stick of all the relief it can give me, before lighting up another one. When two lights blare into existence, I drop my arm back to my side and drop my momentary sanctuary to the ground. I won't need it where I'm going.

The road is long and winding, the cabbie is silent. I'm left alone with my thoughts as the gnarled trees and hollow buildings fly past. It's too fucking easy to sink back into the melancholy of before, way too fucking easy. By the time I'm facing the unwelcoming oak of my door, whatever relief the nicotine coursing through my veins is long gone. I'm home though. Well, as close to a home as I'll ever have anyway.

I twist the handle and knock the door open with my hip when it doesn't yield. Finally stepping inside, I shake my head at the irony. Of course the door doesn't want me in her, I doubt its owner does either. My door yields a little easier, clattering open behind my palm. Tossing my covers aside, I don't bother to remove my makeup or change into something meant for bed. Who really fucking cares what I do. I could show up tomorrow with black stains running away from my eyes, and people would just snicker and think it's a crazy new fashion statement.

Somehow, that realization is enough to break me. I climb under my sheets, black of course, because I'm just a cliché. A dressed in black and crying alone in, my bedroom, pass the razorblades. The red numbers beside my bed taunt me as the stall on some hours and fly past others. By the time my eyes have dried, and fatigue has pushed thoughts of my pathetic life to the back of the mind, the sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon.

Unconsciousness finally claims me.

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**Hopefully I'll be updating this next week. In the mean time, it's back to the salt mines to continue pumping out fics for Rade week. If you enjoyed this, be golden, check out my other fics, leave reviews, do whatever you have to. **


	2. Falling Awake

**Well here we go, another chapter from Zen's mind, through my pencil. Well, hands...whatever. Enjoy anyways! :)**

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Mornings, I fucking hate them.

I must have forgotten to pull the curtains last night because it's blinding as hell in my room. Even as I aggressively try to blink away the sleep, it's as if the walls are glowing. Minutes snake past me, and still the world remains fuzzy. With each second that trails past me, fear coils even more tightly around my throat. I'm not even sure why, but my fingers creep over to my bedside table.

Shit.

There are glasses, fucking glasses, on my bedside table. The worst part isn't that they're there, it's that they feel familiar. A long raking breath drags through my lungs and I encircle the thick frames, dragging them over my eyes. Almost instantly, my vision clears and I'm assaulted with images from a life that's not mine. I've stumbled into a room comprised of unicorn vomit, I'm sure of it. Everything is drenched in pink.

Pink.

I blink a few dozen times as various scenarios flood my mind. Maybe I've just been captured by some random psycho with a fetish for pink. Absently, I lift my arms again, wondering if I've missed the clinking of chains. I haven't. But then, from the corner of my eye, I catch something that makes the bile in my throat rise. There's a fucking Justin Bieber poster hanging right beside my bed and it's – It's got pink lipstick all over it. Screwing my eyes shut, I run my hands through my hair, and mine my brain for a reason for this neon nightmare. There's nothing, just nothing.

Peeling my eyelids apart, I throw back the nauseating Galaxy Wars covers that I've apparently been asleep under. Everything is unsteady, it feels like my entire center of gravity has been thrown off. Walking past a shelf lined with models of monsters I don't recognize, I step towards a long mirror on the wall. At least that's familiar, it's the same ugly one my mother gave me two Christmases ago. I step in front of the mirror, and something curls around my throat.

A scream rips through the air. I'm staring at a stranger.

Framing the shock on my face, are the brown curls I'd discarded long ago. My eyes are blown wide open, but the darkened edges I'm so used to aren't there. Stooping forwards, I frantically run my fingers over my eyebrow, right where my piercing should be. It must have fallen out last night, I was tossing and turning so much that it just came out, that's got to be it. Tossing my gaze over my shoulder, I scan the bed for a glint of steel. Moments later, my mind kicks into gear and reminds me of how irritatingly difficult it had been to unscrew my piercing last week. It wouldn't have fallen out so easily. Besides, what in the fuck is wrong with my hair?

Shaking my head, I narrow my eyes. Maybe if I focus hard enough, this frilly hell will just melt away. After a few minutes of willing the One Direction poster in front of me to catch fire, I realize that my efforts are probably futile. Maybe I've taken a blow to the head or something. This is probably some kind of stupid coma dream or something. I'll just stumble through a day in this pathetic life and then I'll wake up as hot as ever. Nodding my head, I convince myself it's the best way forward.

I turn back the mirror, and immediately my hands fly towards my boobs, or what's left of them. What had once been a generous handful, now barely fills my fingers. Terror rushes up my throat once again as my hands skitter over the remainder of my curves. Fighting back the burning in my eyes, I suddenly glare upwards at the heavens.

"Seriously?" I demand, pointing at my chest. The pink I can deal with, the Bieber shit I can burn. But the repossession of my God given assets though? That is taking things a step too far!"

Recomposing myself, I take a deep breath and suppress the urge to douse myself in gasoline. That urge to burn though, it just bubbles up again and again. I move toward a hot pink dresser and hurl open the top draw. Rifling though it, the closest thing to risqué that I find is a yellow Pokemon bra. I shake my head and grudgingly pick up a plain white cotton bra. It's plain and it's tiny, but at least there aren't animals on it.

Eventually, I strangle an outfit out of the closet that's apparently mine. Glaring back at myself, I feel deeply unsatisfied. I'm wearing a black shirt, with one fatal flaw in its design. There's a smiling fucking kitten across the front of it. Exhaling, I slam the door in front of me. It had taken an age to unearth something even this dark.

A few moments later, I've found a pair of blue jeans and I'm glaring into my reflection once again. My makeup even looks ridiculous behind these absurdly thick glasses. Pushing them higher onto my nose, I feel like I'm having an identity crisis.

"Jadelyn, hurry up! You're going to be tardy." The familiar voice flies through the floorboard below me. I might be in the midst of the pastel hell, but of course my father is along for the ride. Mutinous words burn at my tongue as I stomp at the ground.

"Coming daddy!" The sugary sweet tone in my voice is sickening. It's not what I had planned on saying at all. Sneering in the direction of the mirror one last time, I spin in the direction of my door. In the place of my black and red baby is a pink monstrosity. Setting my jaw, I pick up what I suppose is my book bag, and amble into the hallway. This is one fucked up dream.

I trample down the stairs, wondering if I'm going to stumble across the perfect American family. Veering into the kitchen, I'm almost disappointed to see my same detached father tucked away behind the morning news. Even my dreams are utterly lacklustre. My stupid brain can take away my boobs, but it can't give my functional parents? Figures.

"Now Jadelyn, I expect you to be home promptly this evening. Not a moment past 3:30, am I understood?" They're the same cold words as usual, but instead of the usual minor irritation I feel, fear bubbled up in me much to my surprise. My tongue twitches with the need to put my father in his place, but my lips remain sealed. All I'm able to do is nod my head in agreement.

"Ugh. Jadelyn, what are you wearing? I want you to discard those clothes immediately when you come home." My father sniffs, grey eyes edging over the top of his paper. I want more than anything to scream bloody murder, but all I do is mumble a quiet agreement and pick up my keys. My fathers face remains impassive as I walk past him, and I can't shake the gnawing in my stomach. This feels different to a dream. In a dream, I'm sure he would have at least cracked a smile.

"You are fucking kidding me." The words feel unfamiliar from the lips. Even still, the anger bubbling up within me forces them through. Looming in the driveway, where my battered Gremlin should be, is a god awful baby blue nightmare. Absently, I pull the glasses from my eyes, and wipe them. Maybe it's these damned defective eyes. Maybe my emerald baby is just out of sight. When I toss the thick frames over my eyes, I'm still confronted with the horror of a Prius that may actually be mine. Screwing my eyes shut, I drag my keys out of my purse and push my thumb over the unlock icon on a suspiciously modern looking car key.

The damn baby blue Prius beeps in response.

"Oh for Chri-Why? Why are you doing this?" I shriek, gnarling my fists and staring up at the clouds. I can't be dream, I just can't be. Even my mind isn't sick enough to torture me with a car this dorky.

Ramming my key into the ignition of my car and twisting it, my ears are suddenly under assault. The bright sounds of Carly Rae Jepson floods through the speakers, and I'm left scrambling for the volume control. Throwing open the glove box, I sift through the CDs inside for relief. Anything that's got a real guitar track, or anything written by somebody over 16 will do. Eventually my fingers land on a dark case that looks horribly out of place in this car. It's so at odds with every other album, that I doubt it even belongs here. I throw the thought aside, and let the razor sharp sounds of The Bleeders drag me into a world that's a little more familiar.

Buildings fly past me as I drift in the direction of Hollywood Arts. With every halting red light, I search the city for tears in the fabric of reality. God, even if gravity were suddenly to fail, I think it'd rejoice. I'm still searching for any signs of a dream when I find myself at the gates of Hollywood Arts. The sharp edges of reality remain intact, and I'm slowly losing hope that I'm lost in a dream. Every window I walk past reminds me of who I am today. My breath starts to tear at the edges, and air fills my lungs in jagged shards. It's only by slowing to a halt that I'm able to drown out the panic with cold rationalization and a deep breath. It's a trick that was taught to me back in sixth grade by my guidance councilor.

It's been a long time since I've needed to dust it off.

Finally having calmed myself, I wander through the halls. It's not often that I run toward the embrace of a familiar face, but today I just need something concrete to hang onto. Marching in the direction of my locker, I scan the hallways for a flash of red, the whip of dreadlocks, a mop of hair, anything. If I'm really having some kind of drug fuelled spiritual journey, shouldn't I be learning something? Maybe one of them has been cast as my spiritual advisor or something. With my luck it's probably Vega.

Ugh. That would be the straw the broke the camel's back.

"Jade!" All of a sudden, two arms are snaking around my waist, and there's an excited bouncing from behind me. Cat's the only person I know that would dare to get this close to me. I want grit my teeth and hurl her away like usual, but my arms hang at my sides as Cat titters happily. I almost felt relief in the fact that my best friend was here...but something was wrong though. There's something off about her giggling . It was lower than usual and a touch more intelligent. Peering down at Cat's oddly tanned arms, I begin to turn in her direction.

"Cat, you would not believe the…Vega?" The incredulity in my words dies away as I find myself gaping at a girl that's most definitely not my best friend. I'm not even sure she's the girl that clouds my every day in darkness, either. Vega's hair isn't falling over her shoulders in chestnut waves like usual. Instead, it's spilling from her head like cerulean ink.

"What the hell are you doing and why is your hair blue?" I hiss, glowering at the girl currently violating my personal space. Twisting away from her, I put space between Vega and I. Her eyebrows don't arrow in the way I'm used to. Instead, hurt carves its way into Vega's features and she whimpers.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" She shrieks, dragging a small crimson camel from her backpack to comfort herself. The sudden shift in conversation throws me off guard and words fail me. Before I can stop myself, I'm mumbling out a quick apology.

"It's fine, Jaaade, but my hair has always been blue, silly. Like, since we were in middle school. Mr. Camel knows, he'll tell you all about it." She babbles happily, nuzzling against the plush toy. Vega's tone has veered away from anger so quickly that I feel like I've been in a car accident. My heart pumps limply in my chest. This, this is tear in reality that I've been looking for. It's not April 1st and I know Vega lacks the wild streak to do something like this anyway. I'm definitely dreaming.

"Oh, so inappropiate Mr. Camel!" Vega chirps, waving her camel at me. It's so utterly bizarre, that I can't help but feel at ease. There's no way this is real life, I'm just dreaming.

The momentary peace I've found doesn't last long.

The sound of beat boxing drifts through the air, and there's sinking feeling in my stomach. My shoulders straighten, and I swallow thickly. Turning slowly, I find myself facing a familiar, if distorted figure. Looming in front of me is Cat Valentine. Her phone is playing an obnoxiously ghetto tune, and she's bobbing her head staunchly.

"Yo, what's up Tori, Jade? You like my new rap?" Cat asks, nodding in our direction. The voice that flies out of Cat's lips sounds as though it's been drowned in Brooklyn attitude. She's wearing a flat brim hat, and brunette hair is spilling out from beneath it. With the realization that her usual crimson hair is missing, something inside of me shatters. This girl isn't my best friend. My best friend doesn't rap, and she doesn't wear Lakers singlets. Words fail me, and the only sound that passes between us is Tori's excited babbling.

"H-how long have you been rapping, Cat?" I ask shakily, finally willing my tongue into act. Cat's eyes harden, and she leans forward.

"I' bin droppin' hella rhymes since you bin in diapers, girl." Cat fires back, eyebrows dipping lowly as she screws her arms over her chest. Somewhere behind the anxiety thumping in my chest, I'm aware of the squeak that erupts from Vega beside me. A tense moment hangs in the air before Cat smirks and pats me on the shoulder. Tapping a button on her phone, the deep bass of Cat's rap song filters into the air. It's utterly surreal.

My arms are hanging limply at my side as Tori grabs my hands and begins to bounce around me in some kind of demented dance. My breath begins to quicken, and panic starts to well up in me. I feel like I'm trying to pick up the shards of my life, and they're not fitting together at all.

As I heave breathes into my body, the sound of more footsteps approaching thunder through my eyes. I screw them shut and block out all of the chaos whirling around me. When the world flies into view again, Trina is rapidly stepping towards me. Andre's ambling somewhere on her heel, but the determination that's on Trina's face is nowhere to be found on his. In fact, think the only reason he's even stepping towards us is that Trina's fingers are laced through his. Dragging in a breath that doesn't even come close to filling my lungs, I run my eyes over them.

"Hey Jade. Whoa, you don't look so good." When my eyes slid open, I'm face to face with Trina Vega. Instead of the smugness that usually poisons her face, Trina's face is scrunched up in concern. Holding her eyes, I notice that her clothes aren't actually searing my eyes. She's dressed in muted colors that remind me more of her sister. I claw at my hair, and shake my head. Maybe if I shake hard enough, this twisted caricature of Hollywood Arts will fade away.

"Ugh, Trina. Calm down your spazzy friend." Andre's voice sinks into the air laced with disdain. Twin bronzed arms fly out and slow my shaking to a halt. When the world slowly falls back into focus, I flick my eyes past Trina. Behind her, Andre is glaring irritably in our direction. Her dark eyes hold none of his usual good nature, and he's tapping his foot impatiently.

"S-spazzy?" I ask in a daze, watching as Andre adjusts the absurd shades that are wrapped across his face. My breath catches in my lungs, and I feel my heartbeat quicken. Another distorted reflection of a face I'm supposed to know.

"You heard me. Look, I'm out. I have a booking in the recording suite." Andre huffs, raising his chin and sauntering past me. The shimmering steel of his purple vest is still stinging my eyes long after he's waltzed out of the hallway. I stare after him, dumbstruck. It's not until Cat begins to speak again that I turn back to the collection of people that I loosely claim to know.

"Trina. Does yo' boyfriend still thinks he's the best thing since beatboxing?" Cat demands, palms flying into the sky in irritation. My eyes drift between the two girls and expectation of sparks fuelling my nerves. Cat's eyes are narrowed, and the amount of times I've seen Trina fly off the handle makes me think this is a disaster waiting to happen.

"He's…misguided. But yes, he still thinks he's the greatest singer ever to have stepped through Hollywood Arts." Trina answers, lips curling into a demure smile. Her tone stays patient, and fire that I'd expected to fly from her lips never really arrives. My lungs empty, and the room starts to spin. It's only by closing my eyes and imagining myself in a dark room and I halt the spinning for a moment.

"That boy's flipped his wig." I'm not even sure why, but Cat's offhanded comment sends me into a tailspin once again.

Heaving a final breath, I drag myself away from Trina's concerned arms. I fly in the direction of the Janitor's closet. My lungs begin to burn, but sanctuary in in my sights. I'm so focused on ducking into the darkened corner that I totally miss the boy loitering in the middle of the hallway. Suddenly I'm flying backwards, and there's flannel clad figure looming over me. Pulling myself up only my elbows, I'm relieved to see a familiar face, a face that hasn't changed even a little. I peering up at the chiselled good looks I've come to know so well. I reach up, expecting Beck to pull me to my feet.

I expected wrong.

"Uh, I don't think so." Beck spits the words like nails, and I feel them embed themselves in my skin. His eyebrows break above his nose, and I feel my eyes begin to burn. Agonizingly, I drag myself upright and clumsily turn back to Beck. The soft look I'm used to is a distant memory as my gaze lingers on him. The longer our eyes hang on each other, the colder Beck's coffee orbs become.

"What are you staring at, Jade? Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." Beck's voice tears at my skin and drags strips away from the bone. My chest tightens, and I feel like he's stepping on it with those heavy boots. It hurts. It really hurts. Faltering, I step back and Beck's figure fills my eyes. His eyes are trained on me, and they've narrowed into the thinnest of slits. I don't think I've ever seen such a sense of loathing radiating from Beck.

"S-sorry. I'm sorry." I mutter, eyes flicking down to the pink shoes that had seemed like my biggest problem this morning. As my eyes begin to burn, I step back and fall against the wall of lockers behind me.

"Yeah, good. Just because you've got the figure of a twelve year old doesn't give you the right to stare at those of us that have actually hit puberty." Beck counters, spitting shrapnel at me. The hopeful smile on my face crumbles, and I hug my arms tightly against my non-existent chest. They say that a sudden shock of pain is supposed to wake you from a dream.

I'm not so sure I'm dreaming anymore.

Every word that rips though Beck's lips hurts more than the last. The smirk on his lips is a demented parody of the expression I'm used to seeing in the mirror. Was I ever this mean?

"I didn't mean to, I ju-"

"Yeah, just like I'm sure your parents didn't mean to have you 16 years ago. I mean god, Jade. What is your father going to think when you're 40 years old and still a virgin?" Beck doesn't throw his arms around me, and his words cut through me even more viciously, if anything. I hack back a sob and sink towards further towards the ground. Peering up through the haze of my misery, I find Beck looming over me again. His lips are curled into a sneer, and I'm not sure that he's done yet.

Suddenly, a voice comes through all the hateful insults.

"C'mon, Beck. You know Jade doesn't fight back, leave her alone. Just chill, I even got you a coffee so back off." My eyes are screwed shut, so I don't see him. I recognize the voice though. It's laced with the same concerned tone that I've heard a thousand times before. I hear a grunt of acknowledgement and it's enough to allow me to pry my eyes open.

"You alright, Jade?" Dark coffee toned eyes are looking kindly into mine, and a pale arm is extending towards me. Reaching out, I slip my fingers through his,and pull myself fully upright again. I know exactly whom I'm standing in front of, I've just never seen him dressed like this before.

"R-Robbie?" I ask, the words just barely stuttering off my lips. The boy's lips quirk and he gives a nod, like it should be obvious but it's really not though. The only thing I recognized and now have come to appreciate greatly is the same concerned expression on his face.

Robbie's hair is an untamed mop, this boy has perfectly straightened hair that's spilling over his eyes in choppy waves. Robbie's fashion sense ranges from nerd to hopelessly out of date. The boy in front of me wouldn't look out of place in a mosh pit, gothic rock at its best. It's almost too much to handle and suddenly, air just won't come to my lungs. The world begins to spiral around me.

"God, Jade. What are you going to do if I ever forget my inhaler like you always do?" Robbie states not in a mean way but in a playful, kind tone, eyebrows crowing the center of his forehead. Before I can ask what in the fuck he's talking about, a blue cylinder is being thrust between my lips. All of a sudden, it stops. I'm breathing fine, now. I'm normal again. Well, as normal as I can hope for today.

The words I speak next are something I thought I'd never say.

"Thank you, Robbie. Now please, help me."

* * *

**Yeah, it got weird. **

**Stay with us though, guys. It'll be a good time, scout's honor. **

**See y'all in the review section!**


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